Lifeline
by I am hurricane
Summary: Sheriff's deputy Stiles Stilinski has to lean on his family after a traumatic day at work. This is the way his family supports and comforts him. (Stalia married fic)


Stiles didn't even take off his shoes, he just staggered through his front door and collapsed onto his favourite chair in the living room. He ran his hands down his face and sighed. He sat there still in his sheriff's deputy uniform with his face in his hands for a long time after that, just turning thoughts over and over in his head. He didn't even hear the back door open or the shuffle of feet as his son came barreling into the house. "Dad!" his five-year-old exclaimed when he spotted him in the living room and Stiles barely had enough time to lift his head before his son leapt into his lap.

Stiles caught his son around the waist just in time before he slipped off the chair. His brain and nerves were fried from his day, but he couldn't help chuckling at the little ball of energy sitting on his knee. Tate jabbered at him excitedly about something and gestured wildly at the crinkled drawing clenched in his hand. Stiles could barely keep up with what he was saying but he smiled and nodded his head.

When his boy seemed to be finished talking, Stiles reeled him in for an extra-long hug. Tate snuggled into him and for the first time since Stiles got home it felt like he could actually breathe. Stiles took a deep contented breath and leaned down to kiss his son's hair.

After a minute Malia came around the corner carrying Tate's backpack, she hadn't changed from work. Her hair was in a sloppy ponytail and she was dressed in ripped jean shorts and a navy blue short-sleeved mechanic's shirt with an embroidered name patch.

Her head was down as she went through the contents of their son's backpack, she seemed to be talking to them both, but Stiles didn't hear a word of it. His eyes trailed up and down her tan legs, distractedly before he caught himself and his eyes darted upward to her face. He found Malia watching him with a hint of laughter in her eyes, "Are you two even listening to me?" Stiles' cheeks flushed as he shook his head. Malia huffed exasperatedly and sank down sitting on the edge of the coffee table. Her eyes trailed tenderly over the sight of her boys cuddled together on the chair. "I said, it's my night to cook, what do you two want? Porkchops or quesadillas?"

Stiles tried to force his brain to cooperate long enough to answer her question. Malia's culinary skills had vastly improved since high school and her porkchops were probably his favourite meal. The only problem was that he wasn't really all that hungry.

Tate hurriedly scurried off Stiles' lap and decided for him, "Quesadillas!" he proclaimed as he danced on the spot clutching at his mom's knees. Malia threw her head back and let out a silvery laugh as she watched her son wriggle in excitement. She leaned forward and booped Tate on the nose, "OK—alright I get the message. Go hang this up." She said handing him his backpack. "Then meet me in the kitchen."

Tate snatched his backpack then darted out of the room. Malia chuckled watching as their son scurried away running like a mad man as he tried to beat his mom to the kitchen. Malia's head swung back toward Stiles and she fixed him with a grin and Stiles couldn't help but get lost in the warmth of her eyes. Malia scooted off the edge of the coffee table and leaned over his chair.

"Hi, handsome," she whispered lovingly as she bends to kiss him. Her hair tickling his cheeks as she swoops down and presses a quick, firm kiss to his lips. When she rocks back on her heels and starts to move away Stiles feels the knot of despair and anxiety rising up his throat again. Of its own accord his hand shoots, catching hers. Malia's eyes dart back to him but the playful sparkle dancing in them disappears almost instantly, "Hey," she says abruptly as she reads his eyes, "You okay?"

Stiles shrugs his shoulders, struggling to swallow down the lump in his throat. His eyes drop away for a few seconds before meeting hers again, "No," he rasps out with a shake of his head. His grip on her hand tightens, "this helps, though," he whispers as he ducks his head staring at their joined hands.

Malia moves into his lap and reaches out to cradle his jaw. His eyes fall closed as he savours the warmth of her touch and comforting weight of pressed up against him. Stiles lets go of her hand in favour of snaking his arms around her middle and squeezing her tight. Malia frames his face in her hands and presses their foreheads together. They stay like that for a long time just sharing the same breath. He can feel the calming rhythm of her heartbeat right through his shirt, her thumbs caress his face and bit by bit the tension bleeds out of his shoulders and the knot in his throat comes loose.

After he's dragged in a few deep breathes she bumps her nose against his fondly, "Wanna talk about it?"

Stiles' eyes flutter open and he stares up at the love of his life thinking, not for the first time, how incredibly lucky he is. "Not right now," he says softly as he reaches out to tuck a lock of her honey-brown hair behind her ear, "but later that'd be great."

Malia stroked his cheek, "Okay," she whispers before slipping her arms around his torso and burying her face into the crook of his neck. Stiles sighs sinking back in his chair, feeling warm and content with her in his arms.

"Is this a group hug?" asks a small voice asks near the foot of their chair. Stiles cracks open one eye and grins at his son.

"Always," Stiles says as he untangles one of his arms from around Malia and holds it out to their son. Tate scrambles onto his father's knee and into Stiles and Malia's arms. Stiles squeezes his family tight. "I never want to leave this spot," he admits. Tate lifts his head from where it rested over Stiles' heart and blinks up at him.

"But what about dinner?" Tate pipes up, his eyes big like saucers. Malia chuckles into Stiles' chest and Stiles can't help smiling. Stiles shifts on the chair, jostling Malia and Tate slightly as he reaches for his phone.

"Don't worry buddy, the food will come to us." Stiles says as he flicks open a delivery app and starts punching in the family's favourite pizza order. Malia grins and sits up in his lap and Stiles has to anchor his arm around her middle as she reaches for the tv remote, so she won't fall off the chair. She sinks back against him a moment later proudly brandishing the remote. She presses the voice activation button and says, "Play: Star Wars Return of the Jedi." When the opening crawl appeared on the tv screen Stiles leans over Tate and pressed a kiss to her lips, "Thanks,_baby," _he says warmly.

Malia grins and reaches for the blanket laying on the couch beside them. She grabs it and shakes it before covering them all with it. For the first time in hours his heart feels full. He's safe, watching his favourite movie, with pretty much his whole world in his arms. Today had been a really awful day. What he'd had to do was probably going to stick with him every day for the rest of his life. But he knows down to his bones that he will be able to carry it, because he's not gonna have to do it alone. He turns his head and kisses Tate's forehead and twines his hand with Malia's.

About a quarter of the way through the movie the doorbell rings. Malia pulls back the blanket and is about to get to her feet when Stiles gets an idea.

The delivery guy did a double-take when Stiles answered the door with Malia piggy-backed on his back and Tate tucked under his arm. Malia managed to balance the pizzas while hanging onto Stiles at the same time and Tate managed to hang onto the change. They staggered back into the living room and made it back onto the chair before collapsing in a fit of giggles.


End file.
